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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496658">The Star Who Reached for Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saretton/pseuds/saretton'>saretton</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A long trip down Memory Lane, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Sabrina (1954), Dialogue-Only, Discussion of attempted suicide happened in the past, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, I worship the goddess of mindless fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Massage, Mentions of various Good Omens characters, Romance, Romantic Comedy, The real summary is "They're married", Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:06:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saretton/pseuds/saretton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A love story made of marvel, memories and moments.<br/>Their own romance told in their own words.<br/>---<br/><em>My entry for the Good Omens Rom Com Event, a fusion with the classic romantic comedy</em> Sabrina <em>(1954).</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good Omens Human AUs, Good Omens Rom Com Event</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Star Who Reached for Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My entry for the Good Omens Rom Com Event, a fusion with the classic romantic comedy film <em>Sabrina</em> (1954).<br/>A huge thank you to the all the sweet people of the Good Omens Events server. You all are something special, a little miracle in these strange times we're living.</p><p><strong>!!! CW:</strong> In the very opening of this story, there's a discussion about a suicide attempt happened in the past (this also happens canonically in the source film). I've tried to be as gentle as I could in describing it; even so, please be careful if this is something that might be disturbing or triggering to you.</p><p>I had not one, but two guardian angels on my shoulders that betaed this work and encouraged me all along. Thank you so much, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia_ugly/pseuds/mia_ugly">Mia_ugly</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnittingJedi/pseuds/TheKnittingJedi">TheKnittingJedi</a>. Also, dear Jedi, thank you for convincing me to take part to this event with your trademark gentleness and enthusiasm.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>“Angel. Angel, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”</p><p>“…Mmh? Oh, uhm – yes – yes, my dear.”</p><p>“You sure? You had such a face, I thought-”</p><p>“Yes, uh – absolutely tickety-boo. It’s just a – a thing I found in this drawer while I was looking for my bookmark, but… N-nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“Angel. Don’t make me worry. What do you have there?”</p><p>“Well, uh. I… It’s just this. Look.”</p><p>“A letter?”</p><p>“Yes, I… You… Just- here, just read it.”</p><p>“Uhm. ‘<em>Dearest father, I don’t want to go abroad. I want to die. Forgive me for what I’m about to do. Goodbye. Anthony. P.S. Don’t have Gabriel at the funeral. He probably wouldn’t even cry.’</em> Oh, Angel. It’s that letter I wrote.”</p><p>“The night of that party, the day before you were to leave to study. When you wanted to… to…”</p><p>“Yes. Feels like – like ages ago, eh?”</p><p>“Well. It’s been almost… four years since you went away, if I remember well. Then again, has it? Mmh. Must be, let’s see – three years and eight months pretty soon.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me you’ve been counting them?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t <em>you</em> pretend you are not doing it as well.”</p><p>“Ah, mmh. Well. Not gonna deny that.”</p><p>“I should think so. It’s the least you can do. I’m your husband, you know – I could get offended.”</p><p>“Might come as a surprise to you, Angel, but yes, I’ll have you know I <em>am</em> aware of being your husband.”</p><p>“Oh, well. You know, I… I’m just – so grateful to have found you there, on the garage floor as I was passing by, that night.”</p><p>“Thank my lucky stars.”</p><p>“Oh, you have more than one?”</p><p>“Well, of course. Big starry fan, me. But my favourite is the one here on planet Earth, in this room. And I’ll have you know it’s the brightest.”</p><p>“That tongue of yours is quite the flatterer, dear, when the mood is right. And to think of the bizarre excuse you put up when I found you. ‘I was checking the exhaust pipes on your cars, Mr. Fell. I didn’t notice the garage shutters were closed.’ It still rings in my ear… It was suspicious. Eight cars, all running together, and the garage shutters, well… shut?”</p><p>“Yeah, thinking about it, maybe that hasn’t been my most brilliant plan. Or my most brilliant excuse.”</p><p>“I might have believed you, though, at first.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah?”</p><p>“Yes. You have to admit you were definitely younger.”</p><p>“‘Younger’, bloody Hell, Angel, I’ve turned <em>thirty</em> only two months ago. Let me be just ‘young’ a little longer, will y-?”</p><p>“<em>My point is</em>, Anthony, you still had a lot to learn about cars, and you didn’t even want to become a chauffeur like your father in the first place. You’ve always had your mother’s spirit in you, with her love for flowers and trees and gardening, and you were just- inexperienced, is all I’m saying, but… But then, as I was passing by, I heard that noise. I opened the garage, turned on the lights. You were just – just <em>there</em>. And you woke up soon enough, thank God – you stuttered out that excuse as I helped you back on your feet, but- but then you… You just kept coughing and- and coughing. You did for a while, at least. And you were so pale, and looked so confused. I got scared out of my wits by the implications of what… what could have <em>happened</em> to you, there on the garage floor, with the smoke of those eight blasted, useless cars seething in your lungs…”</p><p>“Angel… Hey. Oh Angel- no, no, please don’t cr-”</p><p>“No, no, it’s – it’s alright, dear. See? No tears. I’m alright. Tip-top.”</p><p>“You sure? Didn’t look like that to me just a moment ago.”</p><p>“I’m fine, really. I just got… a little emotional, that’s all. After all, we- we can’t deny yours was, uhm. Quite a- a statement.”</p><p>“You know by now what a complete drama I make of everything.”</p><p>“Nobody was or is worth doing that, love, and Gabriel least of all. He had been wrong for you from the beginning. Do you remember the efforts your father used to make to try and get him out of your mind?”</p><p>“Ok, let’s not bloody start rubbing salt into the wound.”</p><p>“Sorry, my dear.”</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong, ’m not angry. No reason to be. I’m just speaking for the both of us, in a way. I wish I could just… forget entirely the years I spent pining after your brother. Then I’d be left just with the memory of you. Wouldn’t that be nice?”</p><p>“Oh. Perhaps you’re right. Still, as lovely as this fantasy sounds, I wouldn’t change a thing. Everything happens for a reason, I believe. If you hadn’t been in love with Gabriel in the first pl-”</p><p>“It was just a <em>crush</em>, Angel.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, a ten-years long crush for a man who couldn’t even remember your name, despite the fact that your father worked for him. Yes, just a crush – but I digress… If it hadn’t been for him, for the feeling that made you leave to study gardening abroad and then come back, perhaps you wouldn’t have fallen in love with me.”</p><p>“Perhaps. But we’ll never know. I guess we’ll just have to be happy with the road we’ve taken.”</p><p>“My, my, this spring cleaning made us start quite a trip down Memory Lane, don’t you think? How funny.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t exactly call it ‘funny’, the fact that we started this so-called <em>trip</em> with you finding that fucking letter at the bottom of the drawer, but- Ah! Wait. Wait – there’s something else in here. What the-? Oh! Angel, the… these boarding tickets!”</p><p>“Boarding tickets?”</p><p>“Look.”</p><p>“London to Calais – seven months ago – oh, yes! Must be <em>those</em> tickets for sure, darling.”</p><p>“So you do remember?”</p><p>“My dear boy. Don’t be ridiculous. We <em>got married</em> on that ferry, for goodness’s sake – how could I forget?”</p><p>“You, uh. You may have a point.”</p><p>“It’s not that I may, love. I do. And quite often.”</p><p>“Can’t counter that either. Isn’t it strange, though, that I’ve put them in the same drawer with the letter?”</p><p>“Mmh. No, I don’t think so. Call it fate, call it subconscious, call it something else, but deep down you knew exactly why you were doing it.”</p><p>“Methodical irrationality… my favourite sport.”</p><p>“You’re not irrational, Anthony. You have a very vivid imagination.”</p><p>“Well, perhaps. Like, you know – did I ever tell you this? – when I tried to shush Mary while I was… uh, before you found me in the garage?”</p><p>“You shushed the <em>Bentley</em>? Oh, good <em>Lord</em>. Anthony!”</p><p>“I did, I swear. That’s how stupid I was.”</p><p>“No, not stupid. Never. You were just a dear already back then. Willing objects into working or stopping, shushing cars… Only you of all people could do that.”</p><p>“It’s just – that damn Bentley… you know. I loved her, she was my favourite. But it seemed she was doing all that noise <em>on purpose</em>. So that I could get busted. She betrayed me.”</p><p>“How fortunate for us.”</p><p>“At first I was angry with her. Yes, yes, laugh all you want… but- well. She <em>was</em> ruining my plan. And of course, I didn’t wanna wake up Pa, sleeping just above the garage. Perhaps- perhaps that’s why I survived, in the end. There was still someone I cared about.”</p><p>“I think it’s very true and very sweet. It says a lot about you, my love. And honestly, you would have been undisturbed, if it hadn’t been for me. Your old man sleeps like a rock, as far as I know.”</p><p>“Ah! That he does.”</p><p>“Thank goodness all the more for those cars, then. If I hadn’t been passing by the garage to check on my brother, I don’t know if I would have ever heard them running. The mansion is a little further from the garage than one could think, and the party was still in full swing.”</p><p>“Where was he, by the way?”</p><p>“Who, Gabriel? Mmh. I can’t remember exactly – most probably somewhere on the tennis court?”</p><p>“On the tennis court… discussing business? With his mob playmates?”</p><p>“Unfortunately. Well, probably, anyway. I’ve never been sure of the nature of their affairs, but you know – they were always pretty shady to say the least. The fact that he kept regular meetings with the competitors, well. Surely he could have been more careful.”</p><p>“He was in- what? A kind of secret pact with that Beatrix Debus, right?”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>“Shady lady, that one. She’d buzz around every now and again, always looking for Gabriel, but she was never one to speak much. Who knows what she was always up to. And I’ll say, your brother’s complete ineptitude at hiding his ‘secret side business’ never fails to amaze me.”</p><p>“Me too. Luckily, our parents never found out, as far as I know. They would’ve had a stroke, otherwise.”</p><p>“Shady business – and on a tennis court! Thinkin’ about it, I don’t understand how the Hell I had a crush on your brother. And yet, I was so desperate when I wrote that- that melodramatic letter. So desperate and so determined that I even remembered to feed the goldfish one last time before going to the garage and starting the cars. That’s food for thought, perhaps.”</p><p>“I suppose so…”</p><p>“I don’t know how I got to the point of trying that. Must have happened little by little, day after day, I guess. Helping my father wasn’t giving me much in terms of personal fulfilment, and I got so obsessed with my crush on your brother, who was so self-absorbed that he wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence… It just- I don’t know. It spiralled out of control to the point where I felt no reason to keep on living.”</p><p>“I’m glad now more than ever that I found you, love. Back then, I didn’t realise how much the whole situation must have been hard for you. But now I do. Gabriel was never meant for you, but you still had the love of your father, and all the staff was absolutely smitten with you. I’m sure that, should we come back to the mansion one day, every one of them would still think the same. Quite frankly, even back then, when I wasn’t aware I loved you, life without you would have been unimaginable.”</p><p>“Angel. Oh, Angel, you’re just lovely. I’m the luckiest person in this world to have found you. Say, if you could go back in time and have me, well… a little younger than I am today, would you?”</p><p>“You’d certainly be younger, but I would never trade what we have now for the past.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“<em>Never</em>, I tell you, silly boy. When you wrote those words you were just as young as your love. You had to go away, and come back, and then sweep everyone off their feet at that homecoming party. Me included, of course. Like one of your flowers, it took you a while to grow fully. Heavens, it took <em>me</em> a while, as well.”</p><p>“Might be, but we got there together, didn’t we?”</p><p>-------------</p><p>“Breathe, Angel. Easy. Slow, deep breaths… You should be alright in no time.”</p><p> “Oh, by… mpfh… by Jove…”</p><p>“That’s it, that’s it, Angel. You know – you shouldn’t gulp everything down so quickly when you eat. I would never want you to choke on any of these fancy desserts you like so much, especially your beloved Devil’s Fudge. Again now, like that… That’s right, deep breaths, like you said when…”</p><p>“Yes, yes, dear, that's what I said then. I was… mpfh… I was there, too.”</p><p>“Ah! My bit of a bastard is back. Looks like you’re alright now.”</p><p>“Whew. Mpfh… I suppose I should thank you for having saved my life, dear.”</p><p>“Nah, that’s the least I could have done. After all, you did find and save me in the garage first.”</p><p>“Oh. Oh, you sweet…”</p><p>“It was something. You coming in, turning the lights on, fussing around when you found me there. Pretending to believe my dumb excuses, getting me back up on my feet. Then… Oh, mmh. Never mind.”</p><p>“‘Never mind’ what?”</p><p>“Well, uhm. Then you put a hand on my… uhm. Waist?”</p><p>“I… what?”</p><p>“I mean, didn’t you?”</p><p>“I beg your <em>pardon</em>?”</p><p>“Th- that’s what I remember. You’re not denying this now, are you?”</p><p>“I did not!”</p><p>“Did too.”</p><p>“Oh, good Lord. Did <em>not</em> - how <em>dare</em> you even imply such a thing. Me, taking advantage, pawing at you like at a watermelon at the grocer’s.”</p><p>“I didn't imply a thing, Angel. I'll have you notice that now you're rambling all by yourself about this, digging your own grave. I just said you put a hand on my waist to… oh, I don’t know – to keep me bloody standing, perhaps.”</p><p>“I did <em>not</em> put my hand on any inappropriate body parts of yours, thank you very much, and that’s that.”</p><p>“Oh, really?”</p><p>“‘Oh, really’ indeed. Just below your chest to help you breathe more easily.”</p><p>“Below my-… Pfft! Please, <em>please</em>, listen to yourself-”</p><p>“And <em>anyway</em>, you should only thank me for carrying you to your bed that night.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, sure… Wait. For… for doing what?”</p><p>“Well, how do suppose you got there, then? By catapult? By flying into your room, straight in from the open window above the garage? Really, now.”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“I admit I considered dragging you, yes, but I was scared to hurt you in the process. So you see – hoisting you on my shoulders was the easiest solution.”</p><p>“<em>What?!</em>”</p><p>“Hoisting you, dear boy, I <em>hoisted</em> you, and let me tell you – you were as limp as overcooked spaghetti and as heavy as a potato sack.”</p><p>“Eh?”</p><p>“…Not that you look any different now…”</p><p>“Bloody- holy- no, wait. Let’s- let’s start again, Angel. Why don't I remember any of this?”</p><p>“Easy. You fainted.”</p><p>“I <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Oh dear, there he goes again. You absolute noodle, you fainted because of all that smoke you inhaled in the garage. You lasted twenty seconds straight on your feet before collapsing in my arms like jelly.”</p><p>“<em>’Scuse me</em>, Mr. Fell – I remember we moved to my room above the garage and bid goodnight. Me, I don't remember fainting. I don’t remember being- being hoisted or collapsing in anyone’s arms. Yours least of all.”</p><p>“But of course. I’ve already told you – you can’t remember what happened in-between because you were unconscious. You know, while I carried you.”</p><p>“I'm… too sober for this.”</p><p>“You woke up when I laid you on your bed. Thank Heavens you were not in any real danger, in the first place. I guess I found you just in time. And you started breathing evenly soon after you lost consciousness.”</p><p>“I need a drink to process this.”</p><p>“Dear, behave. It’s getting late. Enough with the drinking, we both had our share. We should just go to bed.”</p><p>“Then you shouldn't come at me like this, telling me all sort of- of- of <em>obscenities</em>.”</p><p>“Excuse me? ‘Obscenities’?”</p><p>“Hoisting me up, bloody Heaven… hoisting me up, carrying me while I was unconscious… and maybe you’re gonna tell me I shouldn’t even blink at <em>that</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, Anthony. You're cute when you grumble. Even more when you grumble <em>and</em> you’re flustered. Has anyone ever told you that?”</p><p>“Ngk.”</p><p>“I fear this conversation might soon become a monologue, if you keep this up. Well, if that’s the case… Goodnight, Anthony, dear.”</p><p>“Wait, wh- where are you going now?”</p><p>“…Upstairs? To our room?”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Love you too, darling. I’ll be reading in bed. I’ll wait for you there.”</p><p>-------------</p><p>"So, let’s see what we got. There's a couple of bills, and some ads for new shops, and these brochures, and- mmh, this new restaurant looks scrumptious, remind me to try it next weekend, perhaps; will you, darling? And – oh, look!"</p><p>"Angel, 's… 'smorning… What’re y’ doin’?”</p><p>“Dear. It’s almost noon. And anyway-”</p><p>“Wh’tev’r… Y're not entitled to be… so <em>awake</em> already… come back to bed, don’t mind the mail…"</p><p>"But Anthony, dear – Anthony, wake up! Wake up, we got a postcard!"</p><p>"A who?" </p><p>"Not a ‘who’. A <em>postcard</em>. From your friend, the Baroness! Well, isn't this thrilling."</p><p>"The Baroness?"</p><p>"Yes. I think Marjorie von Potts was her name, right?” </p><p>“Mmh-mmh.”</p><p>“Then it’s definitely her. She was in Positano here. See? Lovely panorama. I wonder if she’s still there.”</p><p>“Lucky old girl.”</p><p>“Oh, she writes that yes, she’s settled there for now, and she’s having the time of her life. The food is great – she picked up some yoga – goes sightseeing and on boat trips – even met some celebrities… I’ll be damned, lucky girl indeed.”</p><p>“How does all of that fit on the back of a postcard?”</p><p>“She has a very minute handwriting.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Now that it finally looks like you’re properly awake… Do you think we could pop in for a visit? We live in Paris, after all, not at the other end of the world. We’re almost neighbours, broadly speaking. France, Italy… And look, she’s shoehorned the hotel phone number in this little corner of the postcard.”</p><p>“I’ve never thought about it. I mostly don’t know where she is, to be honest – she’s always travelling, always around the world. But you’re right, we could. You know, I’m thankful to her for opening my eyes about my fading feelings for Gabriel.”</p><p>“Oh. I didn’t know.”</p><p>"After one of the classes, the one in which we learnt how to water our cacti correctly, she commented on my drowned succulent and she came closer. We introduced ourselves, then we talked about that day’s class. I don’t know how else to explain what happened then, other than it was instant friendship.”</p><p>“That’s wonderful, dear.”</p><p>“So, eventually, little by little, the conversation veered towards more personal topics. It was then that she looked at me in the eyes and said, 'Remember, young man – a lover who is eager for new beginnings and new things to grow, usually overwaters his plants; a sad and frustrated lover shouts at them'."</p><p>“She knows how the world works, that one.”</p><p>“Yeah. That was the first time I realised that maybe I was falling out of love with your brother. I was beginning my cure… but then, after I came back, when I was falling for <em>you</em> before your wedding-to-be, my father noticed and started wondering, ‘Anthony, son, you may be cured; but now, how to get you over the cure?’”</p><p>“I didn’t realise your father was so against our marriage at first.”</p><p>“Yeah. He opposed strongly in theory – he’s very much against social classes mixing and mingling, let alone marrying – but then, you saw it too, he made no actual move to stop whatever we were doing. Not that I wanted to be ‘cured’ of anything, anyway.”</p><p>“It sounds just like my parents. The only difference being, they switched sides while they were trying to talk me out of it, and they were definitely harsher than your father in doing it.”</p><p>“I remember. Your mother, especially, was particularly against us initially.”</p><p>“Yes, but thank goodness she warmed up to the idea, eventually. You know she loves you now, even though she’d throw herself into the English Channel instead of admitting it.”</p><p>“She has her moments, definitely. She doesn’t talk often, but when she does, it’s sure as hell memorable. She seems to watch over everything, be everywhere. I don’t know how she does it and, frankly, it makes me a little uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Yeah, me too. And I’m her <em>son</em>. With my father, instead, it was the opposite. He liked you at first, but I’ll never forgive him for seeing you as a social climber, for doubting your morals. Do you remember?”</p><p>“I think I remember pretty well how he told me I was a miserable parasite to my face, yes.”</p><p>“How very unfortunate. It had started so well. Isn’t it strange, how the tables turned? Who was once our enemy eventually became our silent ally, and vice versa.”</p><p>“It’s a pity your mother wasn’t at the wedding, though. Then again, nobody else was, not even my father, or Marjorie. Just you, me, the Captain, and a couple of passengers. Perhaps it’s been better like this.”</p><p>“Perhaps, yes. We can’t complain – we found many new friends here. Miss Anathema, the librarian, is quite frankly the smartest person I’ve ever met, and her new fiancé… What’s his name again, dear?”</p><p>“Newton?”</p><p>“Yes of course, good old Newt – he’s got a lot of potential, don’t you think? I can see him as a brilliant manager, one day. IT, perhaps, why not?”</p><p>“If you say so, Angel…”</p><p>“And I’m just so glad that you had a friend there at the gardening school, too. Baroness Von Potts must have helped you so much with everything, and I’d like to thank her in person for that, one day. In a way, she saved you. We really <em>should</em> accept her invite…”</p><p>“Very well, love, you know what? You win. We’re going to Positano.”</p><p>“Are we?”</p><p>“Absolutely. We’re visiting Marjorie.”</p><p>“Oh, dear, that’s splendid!”</p><p>“We should hurry up, though, since we’re not certain she’ll stay there for long. Pack your things. We have a flight to book.”</p><p>“What- you mean, now?”</p><p>“Yes, Angel, I mean now.”</p><p>-------------</p><p> “Here, Angel – for you.”</p><p>“Oh! You really shouldn't cut those beauties just to give them to me and watch them wither away on my lapel.”</p><p>“Can’t help it. It's just that I want to. Plus, they suit you so well.”</p><p>“I'll accept this poor little carnation only if <em>you</em> put it in my lapel.”</p><p>“Your wish is my command. There! Don’t you look dashing…”</p><p>“So do you. And look at this garden. Your mother would have been proud.”</p><p>“Well, it's my job, after all.”</p><p>“Don’t say that, just accept that you are exceptionally skilled. Green-thumbed.”</p><p>“Green-thumbed?”</p><p>“Green-thumbed, yes. Besides, it <em>was</em> your job. Or, even better – it would have been. You're not my gardener-to-be anymore, and you were never hired officially by anybody. We eloped so soon after you’d come back home. There wasn’t time or need for hiring you.”</p><p>“Sometimes I think it’s a pity. I studied hard at that school. Wanted to become the best gardener in the whole world.”</p><p>“Well, you are, as far as I’m concerned.”</p><p>“You only say that because I’m married to you.”</p><p>“I don’t, and you know it. I stand my ground.”</p><p>“I would have followed in my mother's footsteps, be at service there at the mansion. But mostly I wanted to forget about your brother.”</p><p>“I know, and I understand. Thank goodness those years abroad did the trick. You came back a different man. With that sauntering attitude and your style and the sunglasses, well – no wonder Gabriel didn't recognize you when he saw you at the station.”</p><p>“Nah, your brother is just stupid.”</p><p>“Oh, don't. He's family anyway, despite everything. Eventually he came to his senses, like you did. Now give us a kiss, as a thank you for your flower…”</p><p>“…You know, Angel – as surprising as it is, I only have to thank one person if I can put a carnation or any other sort of flower in your lapel today.”</p><p>“I’d say ‘your gardening teacher’, but I guess it would be too easy.”</p><p>"Nope. Exactly him – that inexplicable Shadwell bloke. He would always say he'd been Sergeant of the army on ‘gardening duties’ for twenty-five years before turning to teaching."</p><p>"Are there… gardeners in the army?" </p><p>"Not that I know of."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"<em>Then again</em>, he also used to spruce up his lessons with random French here and there, for no particular reason. He wasn’t even French. His pronunciation was as ridiculous as this pretence. And what’s more, no one ever got to know why the devil he would act like that.”</p><p>“Perhaps he just wanted to make an impression? He kept his surname, after all, which is as French as much as I am James Dean, if you ask me.”</p><p>“You are a thousand times better than James Dean, if you ask me, Angel, but all the same, this just proves exactly the kind of perplexing person my teacher was. Anyway, enough with trivial questions. Since we’re already here in the garden and you brought this up, please allow me to entertain you this sunny Sunday by demonstrating one of Sergeant Shadwell’s lessons. (They were too ridiculous, I swear, Angel. I <em>have</em> to show you.)"</p><p>"Oh. Oh, why not? As you wish, dear. It will be most instructive."</p><p>"Thank you, my kind audience of one. Please, have a seat here, in front of these pots. I’d like to show you lesson number three. <em>Bonjour,</em> <em>mesdames et messieurs</em>. Yesterday, we learned the correct way to hold a pair of shears. Today, we green-thumbed soldiers shall learn the correct way to plant a seed. (Yes, Angel, he talked like this most of the time.) <em>Voilà</em>, a seed! Now, a seed is not a pebble. A seed is not a bolt or a piece of hard candy. A seed is a living thing. With a heart. It is bound to become something big and powerful. But! Before its great battle against the elements of nature, a seed needs to rest. The rest of the <em>righteous</em>! (Angel, please, if you start snickering now, I doubt you're going to make it to the end.) <em>Parbleu!</em> Where was I? Ah, yes. So when we plant it, we must not torment it. We must be merciful and efficient, and put it to rest as if we were using a guillotine. <em>Tac</em>!”</p><p>“Did he really mimic chopping his own head off?”</p><p>“Absolutely. And I would have expected nothing less from him.”</p><p>“Oh, good Lord-”</p><p>“Back to our lesson, now, <em>monsieur </em>Fell. Watch carefully. It is done with only one hand. Kindly watch the wrist: we drop the seed, like this – drop! And then, to cover it, we slap some soil on it, like this – slap! You see? It’s all in the wrist. Now everybody, please take a seed. Ready… set… and – drop! And! Slap!… New seed. Drop! And! Slap!… New seed. Drop! And! Slap!"</p><p>"Really, my dear boy. If that isn't the most ridiculous and impractical way to plant a seed I've ever-"</p><p>"Now now, <em>monsieur</em> Fell! <em>Attention, s'il vous plaît</em>. Don't spoil the mood. I mean – don’t lose focus. Great things are happening here. There are heroes in the making, slumbering within these pots."</p><p>“I… whew! I will try my best to be quiet, my dea-… Uhm, <em>monsieur </em>Shadwell.”</p><p>"Actually, uh, there’s not much more than that. He walked among the tables to see how we were getting on with the new method, as ridiculous as it sounds. He started making a big patriotic speech out of the blue, though no one could ever tell you what country he was being patriotic about. He just rambled like a madman about all the big revolutionary figures of the past and the fact that, yes, he admired them, but no, none of them had been particularly bright, if you asked him (and nobody had, of course). He talked ferociously about the Russian Revolution, then the American, and I don’t know what else – he could have even talked about wars on Mars or on Alpha Centauri. After the fourth or the fifth time, I just stopped listening to his speeches altogether. One way or another, he would always end up talking about the French Revolution at the end of every class, and he’d mumble something about Monsieur de Guillotine being the master of his own fate, the first person to be…"</p><p>"…executed by his own machinery, yes!"</p><p>"Exactly! Hoist with his own petard. And then… Wait, Angel. I thought I- I hadn't told you this story yet."</p><p>"Oh, you did. Many, many times already, in fact."</p><p>"…'s not fair."</p><p>"<em>Au contraire</em>, my dear boy. Don’t pout. I do like this story a great deal. It’s so funny, and you tell it so well that it's like hearing it for the first time every time."</p><p>“We’ll see who gets tired first, then – whether I of telling it, or you of hearing it. I, for one, am not going to stop telling it very soon.”</p><p>“I’m glad, because I have no intention at all to stop listening to you.”</p><p>-------------</p><p>“Mmh… Oh, Anthony. Anthony, love, you feel… ah… you taste like <em>chocolate</em>-”</p><p>“I-I’m glad you’re enjoying me as much as… you… mmh… you enjoyed the dessert at the party, but-”</p><p>“Bedroom. Please.”</p><p>“Angel, be careful. Mind the- mmh… the steps now.”</p><p>“I know there are <em>stairs</em> to go <em>upstairs</em>, my dear.”</p><p>“Then try to use them proper-… mmh!… at least let- let me turn on the-”</p><p>“<em>Nonsense</em>. Let’s not waste precious time. Upstairs.”</p><p>“Angel-… mmh!… No, no, <em>wait</em>, Angel… if we keep going like this, we’re not making it upstairs – we’re going to- to trip and fall down the stairs and break our necks against the front door, you know that?”</p><p>“Well, if that’s the problem, it’s easily solved. Do you want me to hoist you?”</p><p>“<em>Hoist</em> me? Again?”</p><p>“You heard me. Hoist you. I think it’ll be quicker that way.”</p><p>“…Yes, please.”</p><p>“Ah! You’re not objecting anymore now, are you? What do you fancy – bridal style?”</p><p>“Well, I’m not <em>fainted</em> or anything like that this time, so…”</p><p>“Perfect, then. There we go.”</p><p>“Bloody Hell, Angel, you have to stop being so <em>strong</em>.”</p><p>“Do I have to?”</p><p>“No. Just kidding. Please don’t change.”</p><p>“You’re as light as an angel’s feather, dear. So lovely. Mr. Crowley, you’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”</p><p>“…Maybe?”</p><p>“Too late either way, I’m afraid. I’m already too much in love with you. Now here’s the bed, dear. Let me take off your shoes.”</p><p>“Angel, Jesus, do what you like, just – don’t you look at me like that, or I’ll… I’ll-”</p><p>“Oh, Anthony, you bashful thing. There’s no need for that. Let me look at you. That’s it… You’ve always been so handsome.”</p><p>“Angel…”</p><p>“Let me tell you, how gorgeous you were in that new suit of yours at the party, my dear. I mean, not tonight’s party – Well, yes, tonight too, of course; you’re always enchanting. But you know, I was thinking about that evening, the one after you had come back at last, after all those years abroad.”</p><p>“Feeling sentimental, mmh?”</p><p>“Yes. I remember every tiniest detail.”</p><p>“I have to admit, I was quite proud of my new style myself. It was funny to see the reactions of you all, when I got back.”</p><p>“You should be proud, indeed. Even Gabriel noticed you, remember? Don’t make that pouty face, I’ll be back to you in a second. Let me just fold my clothes and take all we need.”</p><p>“There’s really no need to bring his name up every time we make a little trip down Memory Lane, you know. Let alone when we’re about to-”</p><p>“I know, dear, but facts are facts. Perhaps it was the excitement of seeing you there again and having you back home, but you really did outdo yourself that night. It was as if life itself had stepped again in our garden. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”</p><p>“Well, I- oh… Oh, Angel, don’t- don’t you nuzzle me like that – you know I’m ticklish there…”</p><p>“Can’t help myself. I can see it all again. That gorgeous ivory suit… It fit perfectly. In all the right places.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“So smooth on your legs. So tight around your ass. I wondered how you could even <em>walk</em>…”</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>.”</p><p>“And that exquisite tailor-made jacket, embroidered with that arabesque on the lower back…”</p><p>“Angel-”</p><p>“And those classy snakeskin shoes. So polished, they were a beacon. They wanted to be seen and watched…”</p><p>“Ah, Angel, <em>please</em>-”</p><p>“And oh, good Lord, that black silk shirt of yours. Shiny. Smooth. Splendid. Caressing you everywhere…”</p><p>“Now there’s no need to take my… mmh… my clothes off while you- you do <em>that</em>, <em>ah</em>!…”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, darling. Just – let me love you.”</p><p>“Ngk… Oh. <em>Oh</em>, <em>fuck</em>, Angel…”</p><p>-------------</p><p>“Well. Whew. That was bloody fan-fucking-tastic.”</p><p>“Mmh, yes, love. It wasn’t too bad.”</p><p>“You never get tired of understatements, eh?”</p><p>“Never. You know me too well.”</p><p>“Ah, Angel, the things you do to me. If I could just-”</p><p>“Now, now, dear – as much as I’d love an encore, it’s still too soon. I suppose we really ought to get some sleep. It’s past bedtime.”</p><p>“I’ll also never understand how you can say something as innocent as ‘bedtime’ when we just-”</p><p>“Anthony, I hate to admit it, but I really am quite tired. I’d better get some sleep now, love.”</p><p>“Oh, I see. Alright.”</p><p>“Buck up. We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow.”</p><p>“In the morning?”</p><p>“Ah, you eager thing – yes, yes, alright. Why not?”</p><p>“I’ll wake you at the crack of dawn, then.”</p><p>“Wipe that silly grin off your face, foul fiend – you’d better not wake me at the crack of anything at all if you don’t want me to go back on my word, and now, <em>if you please</em>, you should just let me sleep. You must be quite tired, too, after all. Now be a dear and close your eyes.”</p><p>“Well, alright, Angel. Night.”</p><p>“Nighty-night, my love.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Oi. Angel.”</p><p>“Mmh.”</p><p>“Are you. Are you sleeping?”</p><p>“Mmh… Mmh, yes, I’m already frolicking in the land of Morpheus…”</p><p>“Oh, sorry.”</p><p>“I’m <em>talking</em> to you, Anthony, of course I’m not asleep, you silly. And if I had been sleeping, you’d have woken me up.”</p><p>“Well, since you’re awake enough to be that snarky, I had something, uhm. Important. I think. That I wanted to ask you.”</p><p>“Oh. Oh… Is something the matter?”</p><p>“What? No, no. It’s just that-”</p><p>“Have I said something that upset you? Anthony, I swear, I’m sorry – you know I become insufferable when I’m tired, but I’d never-”</p><p>“No, no, Angel. It’s nothing like that. It’s nothing much at all, actually, but… lately, I have been wondering.”</p><p>“Dear, you can tell me anything. It’s ok.”</p><p>“Well. When we were making love, earlier tonight, you said something about life stepping back into your garden when I came back. It got me thinking. Do you remember how it felt – how <em>you</em> felt while I was away? All the years I spent abroad… Do you remember what they were like for you?”</p><p>“I… can’t say I was expecting this question, but let’s see. Mmh. I’d say… Yes and no.”</p><p>“Oh. Uhm. How so?”</p><p>“Something in the air was off. There was always too much silence, or too little noise at least. I noticed it from little things – for instance, when you helped your father, you two managed to start two cars at a time, but after you went away of course he could only start them one by one. There was a different sound and a different rhythm to everything. I began to realise that no one ever understand how lucky they are to have something, until it’s taken away from them. And I mean it when I say that virtually everyone among the mansion staff adored you. I bet they still do. I remember their excitement every time they got a message from you. I remember how proud they were. ‘Anthony here, Anthony there’… Besides, how could they not be? You were all around the world, studying, honing yourself.”</p><p>“Your family’s money was the reason I could afford those classes.”</p><p>“Mmh, perhaps.”</p><p>“I find it ridiculous how much your parents were concerned of having me out of the mansion. I suspect they thought I had some sort of affair with your brother, when all he did was meeting questionable people and refused to remember my name as I washed his Porsche.”</p><p>“I won’t deny my family may have paid on your behalf initially, but what about your scholarships?”</p><p>“Well, what about them?”</p><p>“You got them all on your own. No help whatsoever in passing those tests.”</p><p>“Doesn’t change the fact that your family made an effort to get me away from Gabriel for a while.”</p><p>“It doesn’t change the fact that it was for the best, in the long run. Don’t you think? And if you’re wondering whether Gabriel and his illicit business had any part in this – don’t interrupt me, please, I know you’d bring it up sooner or later anyway – well, you know that it’s not true.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“My father didn’t want to use Gabriel’s money in any way, for fear that it would affect even marginally his part of the estate. Can you imagine? Everyone but my parents was aware of what he was doing. I don’t know how this has ever been possible. Then again, Gabriel has always been father’s favourite… But my love, you can rest assured that he and his dirty money had no part in your education at all. My side made us swim through troubled waters while we were dating after you came back; but it was worth it in the end, if now I get to be in this bed with you…”</p><p>“And- and what about the other thing you said? Why don’t you remember the time I spent away?”</p><p>“Dear. I don’t remember it because you weren’t there.”</p><p>“Oh, you can’t possibly-”</p><p>“I mean it, I mean it. A slice of my life wasn’t there, a piece of me was abroad. It didn’t occur to me straight away. As I told you, only when you came back did I realise what had been missing in my life. Why the grass was grey and the snow looked dark.”</p><p>“Tell me what you missed.”</p><p>“Ah, well, for starters-”</p><p>“No, wait, wait. While you talk, a little kiss here and there, they would- would be nice. Don’t you think?”</p><p>“You’re asking me to kiss you now?”</p><p>“…Please?”</p><p>“You silly. Look at you, batting your sweet little eyelashes at me. Well, alright, since you’re asking so nicely… Here, have another… Well then. Now, I was saying – for starters, I missed seeing you fix up our cars.”</p><p>“You missed what?!”</p><p>“The Jaguar, the Mercedes, the Porsche. All of them. The Bentley, even.”</p><p>“Mmh. ’Twas my favourite, Mary, that little beauty. Still is.”</p><p>“I know. Just as dashingly dark and devilishly stylish as you are.”</p><p>“That’s a strange comparison, since I’ve never wanted to be a mechanic. Do you remember the time when I blew up the engine of- of I don’t know what car anymore by mistake, while I was taking it out of the garage?”</p><p>“I remember alright. It was not your fault at all, though. The insurance paid us back. But Lord, were you cute, all flustered and confused in those dungarees.”</p><p>“I’ll put them on next time I’m gardening, then. What else did you miss? Kiss me…”</p><p>“…I missed… Oh, Anthony, dear boy. God, I missed your laugh. It sounds as if it came from outer space, and when I didn’t hear it, it was like being alone on the Earth. I missed the way you crack your fingers when you are unsure of what to do or what to say. I missed the way you bite your nails every time you try not to say something mean. I missed hearing you hum along with the rain and whistle with the birds under the sun.”</p><p>“Angel, I-”</p><p>“Don’t deny it, I’ve heard you do that often enough. And your hair. How I missed your hair… No one in the entire household had hair like yours, you know?”</p><p>“Yeah, as it happens, I know. I lived there, too. And, my husband’s told me so.”</p><p>“I suppose he’s watched you long enough to know what he’s talking about, don’t you think?”</p><p>“He’s biased. (Kiss?)”</p><p>“He most certainly is. (Sure.)”</p><p>“Well then, he’s not a fair judge on the matter. I’ll have to sue him. Or report him to the board or… whatever. (Another?)”</p><p>“Sue him for what, now? Besides, you wouldn’t dare. (You’re insatiable, you know?)”</p><p>“Oh, Angel, I’d dare alright. (You’ve already told me tonight, but since you’re happy to oblige…)”</p><p>“I’ve had enough of all this talking, dear. The crack of dawn can wait. I cannot. Just come here to me…”</p><p>-------------</p><p>“Good morning, dear.”</p><p>“Morning, Angel. How about some breakfast?”</p><p>“Mmh, sure. What are you up to? It smells scrumptious.”</p><p>“I’m making crêpes.”</p><p>“Oh! Oh, goodness, you want to spoil me, then, admit it.”</p><p>“Or maybe I just love showing off after those extra cooking classes, you know, the ones on the side of the gardening ones.”</p><p>“Anthony…”</p><p>“What? Don’t give me that look.”</p><p>“Anthony…!”</p><p>“I’m dead serious!”</p><p>“<em>Anthony J. Crowley</em>, we both know what the truth is, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Alright, alright. If you insist… I taught myself how to make them at my kitchenette while I was studying abroad. There. Happy?”</p><p>“Perfectly. Exactly what I wanted to hear.”</p><p>“Forced by my own husband to admit the bare truth. Unbelievable. One can’t even have a little imagination these days.”</p><p>“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Let’s not be so dramatic.”</p><p>“Well, the thought that my beloved half, whom I love dearly, might not enjoy my crêpes could very well break my heart. I’ve made them especially for <em>you</em>-”</p><p>“Ah, I know, but it doesn’t count anyway, because you learnt to do them for yourself. You didn’t love me back then.”</p><p>“Yet. Or maybe I was starting to think about you, but didn’t know that. Who can say? Maybe Marjorie, of all people. Now open wide…”</p><p>“…Mmh! Ah, they’re scrumptious. And with just the right amount of raspberry jam.”</p><p>“See, then, you <em>do</em> like them!”</p><p>“I also like something else of these crêpes, beside their taste, you know.”</p><p>“Such as?”</p><p>“They make me remember things.”</p><p>“What things?”</p><p>“Well, for instance, the way you decided to make them for me that night, when we were planning to elope.”</p><p>“Ah! ’Course. How could I forget?”</p><p>“It wasn’t the best moment for crêpes, I dare say, at least at first. I remember I was pretty distraught at the prospect of a combined marriage, when I visited you above the garage.”</p><p>“Surely that would-be fiancée of yours – Michaela, I think that was her name, wasn’t it? – couldn’t have fixed you something like these crêpes with all the airs she put on, eh?”</p><p>“Oh, goodness, dear – must we really talk about her? You’re tainting the taste of these delicacies.”</p><p>“Serves you right for every time in which you like mentioning that-… that <em>hateful </em>relative of yours… in my presence.”</p><p>“You mean Gabriel?”</p><p>“You know bloody perfectly well that’s him, Angel.”</p><p>“Well, in that case – yes, I suppose you may have a point. Serves me right, like you said. But there’s very little to say about Michaela. I’ve just never understood the appeal of her; I mean – sure, she’s beautiful. She is perhaps the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Very stern, calm and collected, ladylike. Time and again, I even used to wish I had her posture, or that I were regal like her.”</p><p>“You’re perfectly alright as you are, Angel, you daft genius. I wish you could see that for yourself. Thank goodness you decided against giving in and marrying her or your life would have been a complete merry-go-round of bloody low self esteem.”</p><p>“Thank goodness we decided to elope together, you mean.”</p><p>“What else could we have done? We’d been dating for months, but had it been for our families, and our fathers especially, none of this could have happened. Life was perfectly fine among the Fells; I mean, it was as close to Heaven as it could get. But if I hadn’t fallen out of my stupid crush for Gabriel and if you hadn’t fallen in love with me in parallel, I would have stayed down below, the lowly driver’s son, and your family name would have come out intact. Instead, we said ‘fuck it all’ and met in the middle.”</p><p>“My favourite place, the middle. It centres you, gives you harmony and perspective on both sides.”</p><p>“Precisely, and you can do that while still being in a sort of separate space – on your own side.”</p><p>“Yes – yes, my dear. On <em>our</em> own side.”</p><p>-------------------</p><p>“You know, I’ve been thinking about…”</p><p>“What, Angel?”</p><p>“It’s not a ‘what’. It’s a ‘who’, rather. I was thinking about Gabriel.”</p><p>“Oh, Heaven in Hell, why? My biggest mistake and your heaviest cross.”</p><p>“No need to hide under that cushion, dear, come out. It wasn’t your fault you had that crush and, besides, he was a scoundrel.”</p><p>“Mmph. Listen. If I can avoid hiding behind a cushion, you could do me the favour of spelling it out for once, at least.”</p><p>“You’re impossible. Oh, alright. He was an asshole.”</p><p>“Ah, bloody finally! Sounds so nice, to hear you say that.”</p><p>“I should have let you keep hiding behind that pillow.”</p><p>“Well, I mean, it’s true. I could’ve known better, even without having to go all those years abroad. Instead…”</p><p>“There’s nothing to say about that. You came back a different person. And all things considered, I can’t blame you – Gabriel got all the looks of the family.”</p><p>“Because you… didn’t?”</p><p>“Well. I’m simple. I’m as soft and unremarkable as this old couch.”</p><p>“Jesus, exactly. Gabriel’s not. <em>You </em>are.”</p><p>“See? I- You-”</p><p>“No, Angel, let me finish. Even without considering your brother’s friendships and his attitude, and the fact that he’s as smart as a toaster (with all due respect to toasters) – he’s all cold lines and glares from above with deprecating smirks and words that cut you in half. He’s a knife, shiny and dangerous. What good would I draw from him? Love me some simple and soft, instead, and gentle and kind and witty and compassionate, thank you very much. It’s safe and it’s home.”</p><p>“Anthony. I… You left me speechless. I don’t remember you ever saying this to me before.”</p><p>“Have I, uhm. Taken you aback?”</p><p>“Well, quite.”</p><p>“Oh. I thought there was no need. Angel, you… I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else. You have always looked so calm and confident, I thought- well. You know I think you’re beautiful. I say that all the time, and I mean it, but I thought you- you didn’t need-”</p><p>“My dear husband. If you only knew the amount of times I compared myself to someone else before meeting you, who loves me so selflessly precisely because of who I am… I knew all this deep in my heart. I knew there was no need for comparisons. And yet, hearing you actually say these things, in such an earnest way… I don’t know how to tell you how much this means to me.”</p><p>“Was… was it about time? Is that what you’re trying to say?”</p><p>“Not really. I’d rather just say that this was the <em>right</em> time for both of us.”</p><p>-------------</p><p> “Well, I never. There is another message from the Baroness in the post, apparently.”</p><p>“Is there? But… But we just came back from Positano.”</p><p>“Mmh-mmh. This time it’s a letter.”</p><p>“What does it say?”</p><p>“Well, now… oh, Lord. Guess what? We’re invited to a wedding!”</p><p>“A wedding?”</p><p>“Yes, yes – <em>her </em>wedding, of course! Oh, oh, how lovely, how charming!”</p><p>“Mmh. That's… unexpected. And what's the lucky groom's name?”</p><p>“You won't believe this, dear – among all people, it's Sergeant Shadwell!”</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“Former member of the army, smiter of wilted plants…”</p><p>“What time is it? I need a drink.”</p><p>“…tearer of rotten roots and now full-time gardening teacher!”</p><p>“Angel, I <em>think</em> I may have an idea of who he is. You know, with the whole gardening business. Besides, what's with all those ridiculous titles? Wanted to use your imagination a bit, did you?”</p><p>“I didn't give him a fig, dear, let alone titles. It's all in the letter, look – read them yourself.”</p><p>“Holy shi-”</p><p>“Quite. He made them all up, I think.”</p><p>“…‘<em>smiter of wilted plants, tearer of rotten roots and now full-time gardening teacher</em>’. Well. That’s… interesting.”</p><p>“Guess that he just wanted to match <em>her</em> titles, you know, being a Baroness. Though she still owns many, many more and more consistent, see?”</p><p>“I’d say!”</p><p>“One has to admit they’re not as funny, though.”</p><p>“The poor bloke. Never would I have thought that those two, of all people, would get married. But if she’s happy, then I'm happy for her. Actually, as- as bizarre as Shadwell was, I’m happy for the both of them.”</p><p>“Now to the important details. Do we have a location yet? A date?”</p><p>“No location yet, no. At least it's not on the invitation. We should call her about this… Date's been set in six months’ time, though.”</p><p>“We'll have to get ready, then. It's taking place pretty soon.”</p><p>“Nah, Angel, we can wait. I mean, it's six months. We can take it easy.”</p><p>“But we have to buy a wedding gift!”</p><p>“Angel, look at me. I said <em>easy</em>.”</p><p>“And we're both going to need new suits.”</p><p>“And that's… going to take six months to plan?”</p><p>“Obviously!”</p><p>“'Obviously', mph.”</p><p>“Oh, really, my dear. It's our first official outing as a married couple. I want us at our best, tip-top.”</p><p>“Bunch of baloney. We always are at our best. Well, <em>I </em>am.”</p><p>“Silly.”</p><p>“Say, speaking of which – I’ve had an idea. Would you like to have one of those celebrations for our anniversary?”</p><p>“You mean renewing our vows?”</p><p>“Yes, that.”</p><p>“How? On a ship again?” </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Mmh.”</p><p>“You don't like it?”</p><p>“I’m afraid I don't quite see the point, dearest.”</p><p>“Well… 's romantic. Isn't it?”</p><p>“That's for sure.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“Anthony, we've been married for less than a year. Do people renew their vows this early? We're basically still on our honeymoon.”</p><p>“If you put it like that, we're never going to celebrate our anniversary.”</p><p>“Why so?”</p><p>“I think I'm never coming down from this cloud of happiness and honeymoon-y feelings, as long as I'm with you.”</p><p>“Even when we bicker?”</p><p>“<em>Especially</em> when we bicker.”</p><p>“Oh, dear. Dear Anthony… You <em>are</em> a flatterer. Just tell me, how could I not be smitten with you? Positively head over heels for you? Anthony, Anthony, where have you been all my life?”</p><p>“I don't know, Angel. The safest answer would be ‘just above your garage’. The feeling's mutual, though.”</p><p>“I very well hope so, my dear. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re married…”</p><p>---------------</p><p>“Do we have everything we need?”</p><p>“Angel, we <em>do</em>, just come aboard, we've triple checked everything. Please. If we don’t leave now, there’s no way we’re getting to the bay this afternoon.”</p><p>“But what if we’ve forgotten…” </p><p>“Just stop fussing and get <em>on the boat</em>!”</p><p>“Alright, alright, no need to lose your nerve over it. Gangway. I'm coming.”</p><p>“Ah, bloody finally! I didn’t come to this England trip just to get lost at sea trying to reach that place. At least we can set sail, now.”</p><p>“Oh, Anthony. I’m positively delighted. And excited, too. Aren’t you? Do you remember that time when we went sailing together? A couple of months after you came back home?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“It was a lovely day. Just like this one. Look, look how the sea is clear. You can see right through the water.”</p><p>“Yes, Angel.”</p><p>“I bet we could even spot little fish, if we look close enough.”</p><p>“Yes, sure.”</p><p>“Dear, are you sure it’s alright? You’ve been frowning in an exceedingly worrying way.”</p><p>“Listen, I’m- I’m starting to have a headache. I’ll be better as soon as we arrive at the bay, and we’re not going to make it if we slow down. We’re already late.”</p><p>“Mmh.”</p><p>“Just let me sail for now.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Anthony.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You're too nervous.”</p><p>“'M not.”</p><p>“You are. You are nervous. I can tell. And when you are nervous-”</p><p>“Aw, come on, Angel-”</p><p>“-you need a massage.”</p><p>“Need not.”</p><p>“Oh, 'need not'? Mr. Anthony J. Crowley, you haven't said one word in forty-three minutes!”</p><p>“I am talking now.”</p><p>“What the Devil- Alright. Alright, I have no intention whatsoever to have this boat trip spoiled by your pig-headedness.”</p><p>“My pig-?”</p><p>“I’ve had enough. Cast anchor, Anthony. Now.”</p><p>“Why? We’re not yet-”</p><p>“I said<em> now</em>.”</p><p>“Well, ok, but I-”</p><p>“Perfect. Now off with that shirt.”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“Lie on your stomach.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“<em>Lie down</em>.”</p><p>“O-… ok.”</p><p>“Good. And now, <em>please</em>, just relax. Let me take care of you, my dear boy.”</p><p>“Uh… Alright.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m not angry. And I think you’ll like what’s about to come. At least I hope. I think I'm going to tell you a story. Would you like that? One that we both know very well, but that it's still among our favourites.”</p><p>“Top three?”</p><p>“Mmh, even top <em>two</em> in my chart. But I dare think it’s your very favourite, if I remember correctly. So, how about that?”</p><p>“Ok, then. But- but don't stop that massage while you tell it. Please.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, dear – if you would just lie back down and be good… There you go. Now, once upon a time, there was a beautiful gardener.”</p><p>“That would be me?”</p><p>“Perhaps. He was called Anthony, after all. And he was the chauffeur and the gardener’s son in a big, big mansion. Two brothers lived there…”</p><p>“And one of them was you!”</p><p>“Yes, dear, but let us not hurry. The younger brother was called Gabriel; he was handsome and charming but, alas, also somewhat shallow and egoistic.”</p><p>“I wonder how anyone could fall in love with him.”</p><p>“Anthony, darling, just let me finish the story, please? Now be good, lie back down.”</p><p>“Alright, alright… By the way, what- what're you-?”</p><p>“Oh, this? Sun cream. We don't want your nice freckled back to end up grilled like a chicken breast on a barbecue in this sun, do we?”</p><p>“Oh, uhm. Thanks, love. 'S good... Smells good, too…”</p><p>“Mango-scented. Rest your head here, please. In the shade. We don’t want other headaches, do we? Now, back to our tale. (Do warn me if I hurt you with my manoeuvres.) The elder brother’s name was Angel, and he was all work and no play. Only business was on his mind, and he had much of that to manage, indeed. But he had no love. Since an early age, the gardener had been in love with Gabriel, but it had always been a one-sided crush-”</p><p>“Thanks for reminding me.”</p><p>“-So he went abroad for a couple of years. He came back as dashing and as charming as ever. Who knew whether Gabriel could finally stand a chance at remembering his name, at last; but that was of no importance anymore, as the boy had grown out of love with him by then.”</p><p>“And good for him.”</p><p>“By contrast, during the years in which the gardener's son had been away, the elder brother had come to realise that he missed him in ways he could never have imagined while he was there in the mansion.”</p><p>“Oh, Angel…”</p><p>“Oh, sorry, my dear. Did that hurt?”</p><p>“Uh? No, no, no, I mean. Go on, please. It feels… nice…”</p><p>“What? Me doing <em>this</em>?”</p><p>“Yesss… ssso relaxing. Go on…”</p><p>“As they came to terms with their mutual feelings, Angel took the young gardener to many kinds of outings for several months. Dates, we may call them in retrospect. And on one of these dates they went sailing, just like today. They brought packed lunch. There was a record player on the boat, so they played a disc and sang <em>Yes, We Have No Pears</em>.”</p><p>“They… (Mmh. Yes, <em>there</em>.) They did have pears, too, though… for lunch…”</p><p>“Did they? Honestly, I can’t remember that.”</p><p>“Mmh-mmh. Sweet… they were.”</p><p>“I’ll trust you about that, dear. Anyway, after that, they sailed some more, and cast anchor in a wonderful hidden little bay. It was a lovely late spring day, just like today. The sun was hot and shining bright, the waves rolled gently on the sides of the boat. They spotted the fish swimming around, close to the surface. A nice, warm breeze was blowing, and the sea was shining all around, glistening like a sapphire covered in diamond dust.”</p><p>“Then… aaah. The sunset…”</p><p>“Yes, yes, your favourite part – we’re getting there, love. They spent there all day, eventually. Just chatting and having fun, getting to know each other a little more, a little better. On that boat, they were equal. Not the chauffer’s and the CEO’s sons. They looked into each other’s eyes and perhaps they saw each other for the first time, don’t you think? The Fells liked to keep ‘all in the family’, in a way, without having to go look too far; and Angel had said that to Anthony not so long before, so of course he… he fell for the one who would, eventually, become his family of choice. By then, on that little boat, Gabriel was but a distant memory in Anthony’s mind, and Angel’s own mind was finally at peace, far from all the finance and the troubles of being constantly the responsible brother, for once. So, little by little, the sky grew orange, the sea grew greener, and they grew closer, and eventually, blinded by the fading light, in front of the setting sun, they shared their true first kiss.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Anthony?… Anthony, love?”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Oh, goodness. Fast asleep, aren’t you? So much for my storytelling efforts. Well. Enjoy your nap, my love.”</p><p>---------------</p><p>“Good evening, dear. Slept well?”</p><p>“Uh? Wh-… Oh. Did I-?”</p><p>“Yes, love, you fell asleep as I was telling you the story.”</p><p>“You mean I fell asleep during the tale of our first true kiss?”</p><p>“You did.”</p><p>“I can’t believe it. It’s an outrage.”</p><p>“Don’t say that, you were just very tired and stressed about this little one-day boat trip. I didn’t get bored, rest assured. You know I always take a book or two, and I have my crosswords. And perhaps we didn’t get to the bay like we wanted, but you managed to wake up just in time to watch the sunset, see?”</p><p>“Yeah. And it’s just like then! What were the chances? Green sea, orange sky and……”</p><p>“……and now, you’ve had your kiss. Just like then.”</p><p>“Angel, I… I can’t believe we’ve been married for almost a year now. Time flies when you’re with a person you love, I guess.”</p><p>“I quite agree.”</p><p>“The day we eloped, I had been waiting for you on that ship for who knows how long. Time was playing me a dirty trick. It dragged itself, yet it was running away very fast, too. For a moment, I wondered if you had thought against it, all of a sudden. That would have been very strange of you, I know. The whole idea should have been automatically out of the question. But luckily, then you came on the boat.”</p><p>“Yes. I was late, but I managed to. Explaining to my father the sudden urgency of a very unexpected business trip was the difficult part. Then I took a taxi because I didn’t want to upset <em>your</em> father making him drive me there. I know that he’d warmed up to the idea of the two of us together, but… you know. It seemed bizarre, in a way, after all that we’d been through. I managed to arrive just in time, I hid in the cabin and I sent for you, remember?”</p><p>“Quite rude, Angel. That wasn’t like you. You’re such a gentleman, you could’ve at least showed up in person in the first place. I was on the deck, in plain sight and already in my wedding suit. Wasn’t playing hide-and-seek. We just had to get married.”</p><p>“Oh, but you were miserable at the thought of leaving your father. I thought the surprise could help you cheer up.”</p><p>“Angel, it wasn’t the surprise that cheered me up. I repeat that there was no surprise in you getting on the ship, sending someone to call for me – we were about to get <em>married</em>, for somebody’s sake. It was the sight of <em>you </em>that cheered me up.”</p><p>“How nice of you to say that.”</p><p>“Oh no, not again… I’ve already told you a billion times, I’m not <em>nice</em>!”</p><p>“Whether you like it or not, I’m afraid you are. I married you, after all. Being nice was at the top of the eligibility requirements to be my husband.”</p><p>“Angel, I know, and I’m flattered, really, but just- don’t go around shouting it form the rooftops. I have a reputation to keep, you know.”</p><p>“Rest easy, your evil mastermind persona comes perfectly intact out of this.”</p><p>“Thank someone. I can sleep safe now.”</p><p>“But nice you are all the same. Before walking down the aisle, you straightened my hat, put that carnation in my lapel. Only a nice person would do that – would remember to give his soon-to-be spouse a flower.”</p><p>“Well. Can’t be trusted with fashion, you.”</p><p>“Thank goodness I have my husband to keep an eye on me, then.”</p><p>“Still. I was a little surprised, you know? For a moment, I thought that you wouldn’t come with me like we’d planned, or that you’d come too late. Thought your father had unwillingly managed to make me go away once and for all. Because, I tell you, if we hadn’t gotten married, I would have never come back.”</p><p>“Oh, dear…”</p><p>“And look at me now – the son of a driver and a gardener who married the eldest son of one of the biggest CEOs in the world, and went to live with him in another country…”</p><p>“<em>Isn’t it romantic?</em>”</p><p>“Oh, I see what you’re doing there, with that song.”</p><p>“We danced to it, at that welcome back party that we held for you.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“We were almost alone in the garden, one could think, somewhere at the edge between the grass and the tiles leading to the swimming pool. It was so cosy and quiet and familiar, like the garden of Eden, perhaps. Does that make sense?”</p><p>“Somehow, I think it does.”</p><p>“And you put your chin on my shoulder… yes, we danced. In retrospect, it’s odd and a little ridiculous. Perhaps the secret to good dancing is not giving a fig about the steps and the rhythm and just, you know. Having fun. I could never slow dance, but there, in that moment, I just did that, cheek to cheek with you.”</p><p>“You make it all sound like one of those old black and white films, you know, those ones with Rogers and Astaire.”</p><p>“I had every intention of doing that. There is always something about that kind of mood… It all feels almost like a fairytale when you experience it. Or maybe you don’t realise it at first – maybe it dawns on you later, when you think about it again, day after day. Don’t you think? …Anthony, my dear, you’ve been unusually silent.”</p><p>“Uhm, well, I mean…”</p><p>“Have I said something that upset you?”</p><p>“Oh no, no. It’s just… those things you just said… That was beautiful, Angel. And anyway, yeah. It was way more ‘n that. More than romantic. It was… a dream. Like I had been swimming among the stars all that time.”</p><p>“I remember what your father used to tell you. Do you?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. ‘Don’t reach for the stars, Anthony.’”</p><p>“Precisely. How grim…”</p><p>“I did, though. I agree it seemed unthinkable, before I left; but when I came back, with my mind clearer and my eyes wide open, the whole idea wasn’t so impossible anymore. I did dare reach for the stars.”</p><p>“You did.”</p><p>“And you know what, Angel? The funny thing is, only then did I realise that I had already been walking among them. So you see – it was all easier. I just had to reach out with my hand towards one, and that star, too, reached for me. And I was so lucky that you were just the right star to reach for me among them all.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come say hello on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saretton">Tumblr</a>. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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